Rut
by coolsville times
Summary: American Graffiti: Sometimes you just need to put things into perspective.


_Rut_

Disclaimer: I do not own _American Graffiti_, the characters or any of the locations mentioned in this fic.

Summary: Sometimes you just need to put things into perspective.

Author's Note: This is my second _American Graffiti_ fic and I hope it doesn't disappoint. This was just a little idea I got after listening to Paul Le Mat talk about John's character and some of the fears and worries that are shown throughout the movie. I never really thought his fears were resolved very well and I sort of envisioned him having a conversation with someone who might understand how he was feeling, someone who would understand being left behind by their own graduating class and not going away to college.

* * *

Budda sensed the atmosphere change as soon as he entered the parking lot at _Mel's_. It was always different when he was around but tonight was special.

Last night he had, once again, proven to be the fastest in the valley.

He'd not only survived _Paradise Road _again, but he'd also beaten out of town, big shot Bob Falfa - and by a mile if Terry the Toad had anything to say about it. He'd already been in, gloating on his friend's behalf. John would probably just shake his head and walk away at the praise, though; that was just the kind of guy he was.

Searching the diner, Budda noticed that Patti was on break and Joanie was out in the parking lot, tending to another customer. She was alone and the only one left to take care of John Milner. Pushing off the counter, she skated for the door and lazily made her way across the parking lot to the infamous Coupe and its legendary driver.

Leave it to Milner to pull up to the one speaker out of order.

Nodding a greeting, she whipped out her ticket book and snatched the pencil from behind her ear. "What'll you have tonight, John?"

"Hey, Budda," he started, talking around his cigarette. Taking a drag, he exhaled in the direction of his passenger seat before turning back to Budda, who mentally thanked him for remembering that she didn't smoke. "Just give me a order of fries and a cherry coke."

"What's wrong, hero? No appetite?" she asked, taking down his order even though there was really no need. If she couldn't remember something as simple as an order of fries and a cherry coke, she should just quit.

A jaded laugh escaped said hero as he thumped his ashes out the window, careful to miss her skates. "I woulda lost if it hadn't been for a wreck that coulda killed two people. Not feelin' like much of a hero right now."

"Well word on the strip says the wreck was Falfa's fault, Laurie was in the car of her own free will and you won by a long shot." Momentarily letting the customer/waitress line slip, Budda reached out and laid a hand on his arm before it could retreat back into the car. "At the end of the day, you're still John Milner: owner of the fastest ride in the valley and the bitchinest driver around."

Without another word, she stepped back onto the curb and skated toward the building.

* * *

When the time came to deliver John's order, she hadn't expected to turn around and see him standing in the doorway of the restaurant, watching her.

A nervous laugh escaped her as she glided up to him and said: "I woulda brought it to you."

John took the tray from her and motioned toward a booth. Looking around and deeming it safe, she let him guide her to a table and sat down across from him.

"What if I don't wanna be John Milner anymore?" He spoke so quietly she wasn't sure she heard him and, when she looked up to see if he'd even spoken at all, he was cramming a fry into his mouth. Washing it down with a cherry coke chaser, he swallowed roughly before following up with: "What if I _can't_ be John Milner anymore?"

Puzzled, Budda reached forward and snatched a fry. Tearing it in half, she nibbled on one end thoughtfully. "Then who would you be?"

A sigh escaped her companion and he paused for a minute, lost in his own thoughts. Why was he confiding in her? What made her so special that she should know his fears? Taking a quick look around Mel's he remembered why: she _was_ him. If anyone understood, it would be her.

"I don't know."

A moment of silence went by, the only noise being an occasional clank from the kitchen and the sounds of kids getting a little rowdy outside. She looked up from fiddling with the rest of her fry to find him staring at her as if she held all the answers.

"What's this all about John?" She sounded tired, she was too old to be playing word games with him and, in her business, time was money and he was taking up her time. "I mean what's this _really_ about? This can't just be that race with Falfa."

He looked down and picked over his fries as though he was searching for something; his eyes lit up when he found it. "You're the best waitress Mel's has, right?" he began, leaning forward. "You're the fastest and you make the best money."

"I...I guess," she stuttered. His change of pace was disarming.

"Have you ever thought about what would happen if you couldn't be the fastest? If you weren't the best? If you weren't making enough to pay the bills?"

The shot-gun questioning left her speechless and all she could do was shake her head until her voice returned. "No, I don't think about that. Should I?" He sighed and began to speak but she cut him off. "You're twenty two, John. You're young, you're going to city, you've got a good job and every girl in town would love to be in the passenger seat of your car on Saturday night. Why are you so focused on it all ending?"

Another sigh escaped him and he picked up a fry. "I'm getting old...and so are you-" An indignant: "Hey!" made him pause for a moment before he smirked and pointed his fry at her. "We can't stay seventeen forever, Budda. How long can we stay here at home and work during the day, cruising on the weekends?"

She laughed at the funny picture he made and threw the rest of her butchered fry at him. "As long as the job pays the bills and you don't get in trouble with Holstein on the weekends: forever. Look, not everyone is meant for university and not everyone is supposed to travel the world. Some leave, we stay; it just works for us."

"On your feet, Budda!" A voice called from the back and she huffed before standing, using the table to steady herself on her skates.

"You might not be number one forever, John, so shouldn't you enjoy it while it lasts?" She wondered before stealing another fry and skating back to work.

He watched her go before turning back to his fries and was content to eat in silence for a moment before reaching for his drink and turning toward the window. He could see her reflection busily fixing a tray behind the counter; she didn't glance at him once. Turning back to his drink, he was about to take a sip but stopped short realizing that her airborne fry from earlier had landed in it.

Laughing, he pulled out a couple of bills, threw them on the table and walked toward the door. "You wanna catch a movie at the drive-in Friday?"

Her reflection stilled and he watched her nod dumbly in the window before her vocal acceptance reached him and he left without looking back.

* * *

Budda hummed absentmindedly as she mechanically attached the food tray to the window in front of her. "Can I get you anything else, sir?" The man shook his head and she started back for the diner but before she could step into the air conditioning, the beep of a horn sounded through the parking lot.

She turned just in time to see a canary yellow Deuce Coupe turn onto the main road and speed out of sight.

She smiled as she returned to work.

* * *

_Please review. _


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